Holidays
by Busman's Holiday
Summary: Thoughts of Florida. Bittersweet but unashamedly fluffy.


**Holidays**

The sun scorched down from a cloudless sky, frying the concrete around the villa pool so that his feet sizzled at the touch. Brendan opened one eye lazily, blocking out the brightness with the palm of his hand. To his left Declan sat with his feet in the pool and thumbs glued to that thing he insisted on taking everywhere – even to the theme parks – and it was reaching that point in the day where anymore of its clinky-clinky music and he'd throw it over the high perimeter fence. Puppets singing _It's a Small World_ he could take, Mario's bleeping he could not.

There were times where he saw flashes of the Declan he remembered from when he was little, the caring older brother to Padraig that he was, like when he played with Leah. He chased her around the patch of grass which hummed with crickets, him the monster and she the Disney princess in this garish pink dress she'd begged her dad for the day before. Ste relented, like he always did.

Lucas, a streaky sun-block white, dozed on a sunbed in the shade having exhausted himself with wide-eyed wonderment at Sea World in the morning. Declan had spent most of the day mortified when Leah shouted "Willy!" every time she saw a whale ("Our Leah loves that movie," Ste had explained) and Declan pleaded that his dad took him somewhere he could buy a new game. Sensing things were getting to breaking point, Ste had suggested going on a simulator to Declan and palmed off his own kids with ice cream and cuddly dolphin toys.

Brendan felt himself sweat the entire time they were gone, so much so a bubbly American lady asked if he was okay as he struggled with Lucas' buggie. His response being to shout at her to mind her own business, making Leah hide timidly behind her dolphin until Brendan bought her a mermaid t-shirt.

"He's alright," Declan had said when they were alone for a moment later on in the day.

"Who?"

"Uh who do you think?" Declan had said, looking up from his game.

Brendan wished he'd said nothing. He almost preferred the stony indifference.

"You're a bit…" Declan began.

"What?"

"Well, old for him aren't you?"

Brendan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going for a swim," he said.

He wasn't even sure how he'd explained it to Declan, it was all a surreal blur where Declan spent hours in silence just processing and didn't tell him he hated him, or that he was disgusting or wrong or sick. He said _nothing_, he stewed and answered inane questions with yes or no. He watched Ste for a long time, watched the kids and how he was with them. And then after Ste had spent the entire journey from the airport to the villa looking nervously from his feet to the equally silent Brendan, Declan spoke.

"So was this holiday your idea, Ste?"

Ste's whole face seemed to trembled and his darted from side to side, until he fixed a smile. "Yeah, yeah."

Brendan's jaw tightened and his hands were like a vice around the steering wheel of the rental car.

"Cool," Declan had said. And that had been it.

At the pool Brendan was aware of a figure to his right.

"Want one?" Ste asked offering him a large glass bowl filled to the brim with _illuminous_ orange crisps, "They're like giant Wotsits," he said with a grin.

Brendan gave a half groan and laid back down with his eyes shut. "You're blocking my sun,"

"You look a bit pink," Ste said, grabbing the leaking sun cream bottle that was on its side in the shade and throwing it by his feet.

"Will you give it a rest? I'm tanning," he replied, raising his arms and resting his hands behind his head.

"Fine," Ste said, about to slope off back to the other side of the pool where his lounger was until he felt Brendan tug him closer by the side of his Addidas swim shorts.

He ran his thumb over the fine hairs on Ste's forearm, already envious of his bronze skin, and settled for a brief squeeze of his hand. He smiled softly at him.

"Dad when's dinner?" Declan said, interrupting from the side.

Brendan dropped Ste's hand slowly but in an attempt to be close to him again, sat up and took the bowl of Cheetos from him and made a space for him at the end of the sun bed. He looked for Declan's disapproval but found none.

"I don't cook mate," he said stuffing the orange crisps in his mouth, "Stephen's doing the barbeque,"

"I can do you some veggie stuff, kebabs 'n that," Ste interrupted, knowing Brendan had gone on about him not eating meat the last four days. Ironic really, as Declan hadn't once batted away his teasing by pulling out the dreaded sexuality comments.

"Thanks," Declan said, "I don't want any of it touching dad's stuff,"

Ste smiled, "I'll cook it separate,"

/x/

"_Dad?"_

"_Dad?"_

_Brendan grumbled and flickered open his eyes. Blinking, he readjusted to the surroundings, the loud gulls overhead. _

"_Hmm?" he said to Declan._

"_You were mumbling. In your sleep," _

_Brendan said nothing, rolled onto his side –flicking gritty sand away with his feet. _

"_Can I get a drink?" Declan asked, "Maybe go on some arcades?"_

"_Sure, sure. Take a twenty. Knock yourself out." _

_Declan trudged away and Brendan's eyes drifted soullessly over the beach, down the pier, up Blackpool Tower. He looked at his arms – tanning he thought. "You're pink," a voice in his head said. Give it a rest, he thought. _

_Just not now. _


End file.
